Que La Justice Soit!

Pour le francophones, cliquez sur la photo pour lire la band désiné!

Coming to France and encountering no problem whatsoever would be a dream, but not a reality! Today Rachel and I walked to the church to access the internet and check our e-mails. I had some junk mail to read for entertainment while Rachel; however, had some more interesting news to keep her amused. As I’ve already mentioned, Rachel lives pretty far from her English teaching job, which means that she must execute a two hour commute every day before and after work. Although this isn’t the most desirable fact of life for Rachel at the moment, it is certainly the spilled milk over which it isn’t necessary crying! On the contrary, there is already a sad pathetic little woman sitting at her desk in St. Etienne with milk ALL OVER her freshly pressed t-shirt decorated with English phrases like “Healthy Beautiful”, and “Mom will be so happy!”, and “I like to think I’m cool because I wear a shirt with English words on it that make absolutely no sense!” As it turns out, Rachel sent her address to the people in her Académie and a woman by the name of Mme Maléchet responded with:

You cannot live in Lyon and work in St. Etienne. I thought that I was very clear concerning this subject matter. Every year we have numerous problems concerning your long-stay card and of course your tardiness, absences…

I ask you one last time to accept our conditions either you live in St. Etienne or you quit.

Cordially
H. Maléchet

Needless to say, this woman is a loser! I understand her concern for Rachel being late to work, but in all seriousness, she DOES NOT have to right to tell her where she may live! That is an issue that concerns Rachel and Rachel alone! At least this is what Rachel, the Pastor of the church in Lyon, the nice lady at the Embassy of France in the United States, and I think!

After Rachel called her parents, we immediately contacted our new friend Carolyn Collins in Washington D.C. who is in charge of our program. She was just as shocked as we were to hear what had occurred. She assured Rachel that she would contact the necessary authority and send Rachel an e-mail as soon as possible. JUSTICE SHALL BE SERVED! If the académie still doesn’t budge, Rachel’s church will find an address for her in St. Etienne because,

THERE’S NO USE CRYING OVER SPILLED MILK MME MALÉCHET, SO PUT IT ON A T-SHIRT AND CRY TO YO MAMA!

Rachel was SO MAD, so we found as many individuals as possible to share her anger. It was a good moment for the soul.

I just told Rachel last night that I’ve finally decided that this time around, the French no longer scare me. The last time that I lived in France, every time something went down administratively that made me feel stupid, I blamed myself; this time I blame the administration itself. For example, I went to the bank in Paris last Tuesday to talk to someone about opening an account. When Rachel and I entered the breezeway and tried to access the front door, the woman refused to let us in. I rang the door bell as she was staring at me and she responded with, “ONLY ONE PERSON AT A TIME MAY ENTER!” I thought to myself, “HOW RUDE!” and dramatically insisted that Rachel leave the breezeway. As Rachel exited, the woman opened the door for me while scolding me for not reading the door. I literally rolled my eyes at her as she finally let Rachel in the door. Upon her entrance, I loudly and dramatically scolded Rachel for not being able to read the door. The woman just looked at us and then directly said to Rachel, “And normally you’re not supposed to enter with a hat either (Rachel was wearing a stylish bonnet of some sort)” I then ripped the bonnet off of Rachel’s head and exclaimed, “SHAME ON YOU!” The woman knew I was mocking her, and I personally didn’t care! I told Rachel that I was going to moon her as we left, but Rachel talked me out of it. If it weren’t for the other nice lady who works in the back that helped me obtain information about opening an account, I might have ignored Rachel and given to the mean lady at the front desk what was justly hers!

All in all, Rachel and I are learning how to manage the bad administration, but for the time being, we can’t help but feel frustrated. Pray that Rachel’s situation is solved and that all the mean people in France leave their apartment tomorrow morning and become victims of a drive-by baguetting.

Cordially,
C. Casper